Heaven And Hell
by Cella N
Summary: She's your Heaven, and she's your Hell. HARRY. HERMIONE. Love is a doubleedged sword.


**Title:** Heaven and Hell

**Rating:** R

**Author:** Cella

**Summary:** She's your Heaven, and she's your Hell. HARRY. HERMIONE. Love is a double-edged sword.

**Ship:** H/Hr.

**A/N:** Darkfic. Hopefic. Lovefic. Choose your poison.

**Heaven And Hell**

There's a place in Heaven, reserved for all of us, she tells you.

And as you twirl a strand of her hair between your fingers, you realise she's right. Your place of Heaven is right there, between her arms.

She's your Heaven, and at the same time, she's your Hell.

----

"I hate you," she spats, pined between your chest and the wall. "I hate you," she whimpers, when you drag your teeth against her neck, nibbling softly. You want to draw blood, you want to see her pale neck tainted with droplets of red. House colours, they'd be. "I hate you," she whispers, before you cover her mouth with your, your body pining her closer against the wall. "God, I love you," she trails off, grabbing your face in her hands, kissing you softly, tears in her eyes.

This is your Hell.

----

You can't remember when you started this.

No, it's a lie, you do remember.

"How is he?" you ask, not bothering to look up at her.

She comes to sit down beside you on the ratty couch, her pace is slow and tired and drained of all life. It's all your fault, you think. She used to be vibrant with life, and intelligence, and she used to be smiling almost always, encouraging you to go on, you can do it.

And now she's covered in Ron's blood, breathing heavily, hanging loose in between the land of sleep, and the land of the living.

"I'm sorry," you tell her, minutes after, when her head is resting on your shoulder.

"Don't be," she murmurs, turning her head so that her nose is buried in the crook of your neck. You're breathing stops for a moment, so short, you barely notice it. "He'll be alright."

"I've sent for a Mediwitch," you say, unaware that your hands are entwined together, thumbs playing, fiddling.

"You did well, he needs professional help."

You sigh, and rest your head against the back of the couch. It's been a year since you three started hunting Horcruxes, always on the run from the enemies. You've managed to destroy almost all of them.

Hours later, when two Mediwizards apparate a bloodied Ron away from Godric's Hollow, you realise it's all down to two now. Two Horcruxes, two people left in your group. One's barely a woman, already far too mature for her own good, circles under her eyes, her face drawn and pale, and her hair devoid of any shine or volume. And the other one, you, an orphan who never knew what he had to do in the first place, who decided to go and destroy the world's biggest threat, and an orphan who is now slowly turning into a monster--similar to the monster which gave you the scar.

"I think you should go home," you tell her, your voice is deep and decided.

"No," she answers, one word and it's enough. More than enough.

"Hermione, you could die."

"So could you," she answers, staring defiantly into your eyes.

"Look," you bellow, turning harshly in her direction, "You're not safe here, Hermione."

"If you mean the Death Eaters can get me, Harry, they can get me anywhere."

"I don't mean the Death Eaters," you snap, grabbing her shoulders roughly, almost shaking her. "I mean you're not safe here…"

"From you?" she asks, almost smiling. You avoid her eyes; but a hand tilts your head back in her direction. "I don't want to be anywhere else, Harry," she whispers, kissing your nose shyly.

You warned her, warned her she wasn't safe from you. You keep repeating that as you push her against the wall, bruising her lips with yours, touching, grasping, nibbling, holding on for dear life. You keep saying that to yourself as she cries your name, as you nuzzle her neck, both covered in sweat and the scent of sex.

She brought this upon herself.

----

You can't breathe, you can't _breathe_.

The curse knocked you over the edge of the lake, and now you're drowning. You're weak, floating in the water, sinking down to the dark bottom of the lake, your blood mingling with the blue and the green, and you can't see the stars from down here.

Someone is swimming in your direction, someone with wild hair, and worried eyes. She grabs your hand roughly, and struggles to pull you back to surface. You're tired, but you paddle your legs, trying to make her job easier.

You reach the surface, and all you can hear is your breathing, harsh and uncontrolled. You gasp for air, not needing to look before you to see what is there. His body, limp on the ground, surrounded by his minions and followers. You're a monster, you think. Your rage is unlimited, and you let it loose on them all, killing them and loving the scent of blood. Yet before you killed him, his last curse managed to strike you, launching you into the icy waters of the lake. You almost drowned down there, weakened from the battle. You felt the pull of all those you had killed, heard their voices, beckoning you to them.

You squeeze the hand of she who saved you, and when your breathing has calmed down, you look up.

You can see the stars from there.

----

She's a myriad of tastes and textures and smells.

Her skin is soft against your palms, and her breathing is shallow. The fire light casts shadows against the pale skin, and you kiss your way around those shadows. First the darkness, then the light, that's how you two go.

You grabs your hands and pulls you down to kiss her. She's warm against you, and tight, and you can barely breathe again.

Finally, you lay beside her, pulling her into your arms, and sigh peacefully for the first time in days.

This is your Heaven.

:end:


End file.
